Geneva Soren and the Wizards
by Elizabeth de Britannia
Summary: * Hello, I'm the under payed narrator. Nice to meet you. I'm being paid minimum wage to tell you of the happenings when some scarred wizards seek help. *


Draco Malfoy and the Post-War Problem

* The incredibly handsome, (in his own opinion), important, (again, in his own opinion), and completely sane Draco Lucius Malfoy found himself walking down a busy London street to a Muggle psychiatrist's office. He would never admit that he knew how he had landed himself in this adventure; in his version of events his father had put him under the Imperius curse and driven him there against Draco's will. No, the all-to full of himself Draco would never admit that it was his mother who had made him feel that he needed help by soothing away his dreams of the Dark Lord.

It was nine or ten in the morning, on an overcast day in August. The clouds hung grey and heavy with the promise of rain. Draco went along, hoping his mother had remembered the umbrella, as he didn't fancy getting wet.

Dr. Geneva Soren came highly recommended, or so Narcissa Malfoy had told her son. In reality, Narcissa had found her card on the ground at a Muggle shop from which she'd been buying a lovely dress of blue silk. It had been covered in fancy script giving the Soren woman's location and practice, along with a memorandum to schedule an appointment scribbled on the back with a lipstick stain in the bottom right corner.

"What's a psychiatrist?" Narcissa had asked the amused salesgirl. She had answered, blushing a little at Narcissa's dazzling smile.

Geneva Soren wasn't in a position to see a patient. In fact, she was in session with a very distraught woman who'd just been left by her husband. *

Distraught Woman: ... And I don't know what to do! He took the rthes! The blasted wedding rings and he probably sold them!

Dr. Soren: Calm down. I'm sure he didn't sell them. You have to keep yourself positive, Paige. It's going to be hard at first—

* That's when Draco made his entrance, wand out, alone. He had told his mother to wait outside.

The walls of the office were painted a pale green, postcards of forests and the ocean tacked up around the room. The two small couches, which faced one another were plush and cream. On the couch furthest from the door sat Dr. Soren, a woman with wild red hair and tattoos of climbing roses on her exposed arms. Across from her was her patient. *

Draco: Excuse me? Are you Geneva Soren?

Dr. Soren: Yes. Look, kid, I have a patient at the moment. If you come back another time after making an appointment, I'd be glad to help.

* Draco moved quickly to Paige, pointing his wand in her face. *

Dr. Soren: Please. Don't point that thing at people! Do I need to call security?

Draco: Imperio.

* The curse hit Paige right-on, and after a moment, she left the office, sniffling. *

Draco: She'll be back next week at her usual time.

Dr. Soren: What? How'd you— Why'd you—

Draco: I'm not supposed to tell you. You're a Muggle.

Dr. Soren: A what?

* She was intrigued. She couldn't fathom how a stick of wood could make Paige, so intent on staying, leave just like that. *

Draco: It's a non-magical person.

Dr. Soren: So you think you're a wizard or something? Look, I don't have time for pranks or creepy magic tricks.

Draco: * he's angry * It wasn't a magic trick! It was a spell. Also, it's illegal, so don't tell anyone.

Dr. Soren: Why is it illegal? Oh, trust me. I'm not telling.

Draco: I never asked. It's called an Unforgivable Curse. Even if I knew why it was illegal, I couldn't tell you.

Dr. Soren: Look, I can't help you if you don't tell me what you're going on about, kid.

Draco: I'm not a kid! I'm of age. My name is Draco Malfoy.

Dr. Soren: Oh sorry, Draco—

Draco: I will be called nothing less than Mr. Malfoy, thank you very much.

Dr. Soren: Look, Mr. Malfoy. If this is going to work, you have to stop interrupting me. I can tell from your angry expression and fidgetty behavior that you don't want to be here. Tell me what's jrong. I can only help you if you tell me that much.

* Draco became serious. He put his wand in the briefcase he carried. It contained nothing else, but there were no other places for him to stash the wand. Dr. Soren regarded him, her face angry but intrigued, green eyes following the wand as it went away. *

Draco: I have nightmares. I keep looking over my shoulder because I keep thinking I see You-Know-Who behind me.

Dr. Soren: No, I don't know who. Who?

Draco: * annoyed * Surely you do know who! You can't be THAT dense. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, The Dark Lord.

Dr. Soren: I've never heard of him. Why can't he be named?

Draco: Because he isn't! And because he jinxed his name. My father thinks they'll never say his name, even though he's dead this time.

Dr. Soren: Why are you so frightened of this "Dark Lord" that you need therapy?

* Dr. Soren regarded Draco more softly now. She folded her hands in her lap and leaned back into her cushions to listen to him, the fearful boy. *

Draco: I served You-Know-Who. I couldn't do what he asked of me. He was angry... So angry...' He tortured me...

* Draco's eyes filled with tears. *

Draco: * shouting * I couldn't do it! I couldn't kill for him! And my father went to Azkaban, and no one believed I could kill Dumbledore! No one, and the boy The Dark Lord wanted dead saved me from a fire and it was very disgraceful!

Dr. Soren: Calm down, calm down! Here, have a tissue. You need it. Look, you might be nuts, and I might be nuts for listening to you, but I'm going to give you advice, because you need that as well. First of all, you're human! You feel these things called emotions. These emotions, they're tricky. They don't let you kill without remorse. They also make us do crazy things like serve guys who have odd names like Dark Lord because we think we'll obtain glory. The fact that you didn't kill some guy with a ridiculous name means you're a good person, Draco— Er, sorry, Mr. Malfoy. I have no idea what Alakazam is—

Draco: It's wizarding prison, and it's Azkaban, not Alakazam.

Dr. Soren: Okay, I think your dad went to wizarding prison because he killed for this Dark Lord. Because you did not kill, you kept yourself out of Alakazam, or whatever it's called. Look, if it makes you feel better, this Dumbledore guy probably died of laughter at his name. He did your job for you.

* Draco takes another tissue and blows his nose loudly. *

Draco: What about Harry Potter? He saved my life, even if I was a Death Eater.

Dr. Soren: This Harry Potter was just being a good person. When someone is in trouble, good people come and save them.

Draco: How does all this about "good people" help me?

Dr. Soren: It will help you get over your thing with the Dark Lord. All the people I've ever met who have been forced to do terrible things seem to forget that there are good people in this world, people that want to help them. It helps them get over the things they did, or didn't do.

Draco: The Dark Lord is a good person! He believes in pure-blood superiority, and knows, as my father and I do, that wizards should dominate the world.

Dr. Soren: If the Dark Lord is such a good person, why don't you say his name? And if he is a good person, why are you so scared of him?

Draco: His name is Voldemort. Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort! See? I'm not scared, you filthy Muggle! I'm not scared of anything. I can say his name! I just don't.

Dr. Soren: Calm down! I'm glad you're facing your fear of Voldemort. I hope your plan for world domination goes well.

* Dr. Soren smiled at Draco. He flinched at her using the name, but smiles back at her. *

Draco: Are you sure you're not a filthy Muggle? You are quite pretty.

Dr. Soren: Thank you, but yes. I am a Muggle, as you say. Have you ever thought that maybe the name Voldemort sounds like a child's cartoon character, and isn't that scary in the first place?

* Draco reaches for his wand *

Draco: You go too far, Muggle. Do not take the Dark Lord's name in vain. I will return if your foolish remedy of saying The Dark Lord's name does not work.

Dr. Soren: You are welcome to come back, Mr. Malfoy. Next time however, please schedule an appointment, and please use my name. It's Dr. Soren, not filthy Muggle.

* And so, with the clouds gently crying, Draco Lucius Malfoy left the building and returned to his mother. Meanwhile, inside the office, Dr. Soren reached into a desk drawer for her bottle of Aspirin. She addressed her secretary after taking a pill and opening the office door. *

Dr. Soren: Daphne, I don't get paid to deal with un-scheduled nutters.

Daphne: I feel you. It's funny though, I thought dealing with nutters was your job.

Dr. Soren: Not dangerous madmen.

* And she closed the door to prepare herself for her next, right on schedule appointment. Meanwhile, I, the poor, under paid narrator am off to find my paycheck, which is supposed to be sitting on the driver's seat of my car. So, I bid you adieu. *

Author's Note: (Hello Reader! This was an idea I had just a few hours ago. I furiously began scribbling, and here you are. This project isn't to be taken seriously, because at times, I assure you, it will be strange. I hope I have amused you, and encourage you to review. I hope that you will leave me a character request, so I know who shall visit Dr. Soren next.

Best wishes,

Elizabeth de Britannia)


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